It Takes One to Raise One
by carathay
Summary: Sequel to No One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl. Mindy is 16 and free, having returned to the city after leaving at the end of KA2. Dave is 18. While searching for meaning in her life, she finds a six year old homeless girl who can give as good as she gets. It's definitely a new challenge as fists won't solve anything here. Beware of Sex and Swearing.
1. Chapter 1

It Takes One to Raise One

_Sequel to the incredibly long titled No One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl. There is a bit of overlap here at the beginning to help someone who comes to this without reading the other story. Not a lot, but some. As before, Mindy is telling this story to someone, much as Dave does during the movies. It is set after KA2. She is 16 and Dave is 18 and finishing High School in a couple of weeks. Yeah, I cheated her age a bit. They are a couple now and are living together in a Safe House. Sex has been had, repeatedly. Also, Marcus left town shortly after Mindy did at the end of KA2 because he couldn't be part of the police department in a town where she was a vigilante. Want more details? See the first story. Beyond that, welcome and thank you for reading. Title courtesy of Makokam._

Dave and I were together now. I mean, really together. And that meant figuring out a future. I was Hit Girl. No fucking doubt about it. But while that was somewhere between a calling and a job, I still needed to figure out how to have an actual life. Especially as we got closer to the summer. Yay…. Short nights for patrolling and daytime TV that totally sucked ass. It gave me way too much time to think. A few days ago, I had even admitted to myself that marriage and a baby were very real possibilities. I didn't even know who I was anymore.

It did force me to keep thinking about the future, which I'd been avoiding for a long time. Marcus invested a lot of time and effort in giving me a chance at a future without being Hit Girl. And, while I decided that his future wasn't the one I wanted, I still had to figure out what I did want.

Fuck it. Enough thinking. Time for some ass kicking.

Monday night, I was out patrolling by myself. Dave was studying for the last push through finals and then High School would be bye-bye. I was walking through an alley that didn't smell TOO much like vomit when I heard a scream above me. I looked up to see that some fucktard was plunging a knife into a woman repeatedly up on a fire escape. Like seriously? The knife was coming out her back. Dude, she's already fucking dead. She just doesn't know it yet.

OK, yeah, I felt bad for her, and I'll take care that asshole in a minute, but if you're going to live a violent life, know your fucking job.

She was holding some sort of bundle over her shoulder, trying to keep it out of the path of the knife. I figured she was trying to keep it from him and that's what had started the fight. Not that it mattered. These were my streets and when you did something bad, you didn't get a lawyer or Miranda Rights or a fucking comfy jail cell with three meals a day. You got pain or death, depending on the severity of what you had done. And my mood. And, maybe, just maybe, what time of the month it was. Not that I'd ever admit it to Dave, but beating the shit out of someone was a great way to deal with cramps.

Well, it was. It was like exercise. Kind of….

We weren't 'Off Off Off Broadway', if you know what I mean, so I quickly decided that being subtle might be a good idea and that the woman, who was finally starting to collapse, didn't have a chance, to survive. I took the extra couple of seconds to attach a silencer to the end of my 9mm and then capped him cleanly in the head. One shot, one kill. I love those fucking Sniper movies!

Just as he popped backward with the stupidest look on his asshole face, the bundle that the woman was holding tumbled off her shoulder. I guess the way she'd protected it with her life inspired me to try to catch it, even if it was just a bag of clothes and shit that even Goodwill probably wouldn't touch. It was the least I could do. I dropped my gun and tried not to think about how long it would take to clean it later and polish out all of the scratches. Then I held out my arms.

Holy Fucking Shit! The bag was heavy. I had to drop to my knees to slow down its fall enough that I wouldn't drop it. I tried to recover and breathe for a minute when the fucking thing began to talk. And cry. Goddamn it, bags aren't supposed to cry!

It turned out that it wasn't a bag. It was young girl, maybe five or six. The clothes she was wrapped in draped around her like a tent, hence the baglike appearance.

"I want my mommy!" screamed the little girl with a not so little voice.

Shit. So much for being quiet. I picked up my gun with two fingers and pulled out a Kleenex to try to get some unidentifiable shit off of it. I replied back to her with probably the stupidest thing I could have said. "Sorry, your mommy's dead. That asshole hilled him." I pointed up at the remains of fucktard.

She screamed "Burn in hell you Mother Fucking Cunt Rag Whore Fucker!" at the corpse of the guy who'd killed her mom. Then she began to use the kind of language that I generally reserved for when the US is losing in the World Cup. Again. It was impressive, but she lost points for using 'fuck' twice in her first sentence. Still, she had potential. I kind of liked her.

I was at a loss. I needed to get out of there before cops showed up but I couldn't just leave her all alone. I knew my next decision would piss Dave off more than I ever had before. And I knew it was not a wise decision. But, it was the right decision. So, just like a puppy you find alone in a box in front of the grocery store, I couldn't resist taking her home.


	2. Chapter 2

It Takes One to Raise One

_Sequel to the incredibly long titled No One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl. As before, Mindy is telling this story to someone, much as Dave does during the movies. Welcome and thank you for reading and reviewing. Title courtesy of Makokam._

Well, I didn't take her directly home. That would have been stupid, especially since I was still in costume. I backtracked to the alley where I had hidden my normal clothes and tried to preserve my secret identity.

I looked at her nervously. "Look, ummm… Wait here for a few minutes, OK?" I asked, when we got close to where I'd hidden my stuff. "I have to go fight more crime but my partner will come out in a few minutes. She'll find you a place to stay." The girl just stared at me. "She's about my height and kind of sounds like me, but we're totally different people. Wait here, OK?" More staring. I decided that a lack of response indicated agreement and disappeared into the alley to quickly change. It didn't take too long but I didn't want her to disappear so I shoved everything into my bag as fast as I could. I didn't notice that my wig was peeking out.

When I came back out a few minutes later, I tried to pitch my voice a little higher and change my speech pattern a bit. "Hiya kiddy!" I bubbled. "Hit Girl asked me to take care of you. Shall we go get something to eat?"

"How fucking stupid do you think I am?" She yelled back at me. "I'm six, not three, asshole! You're Hit Girl! I don't forget who you are just because you walked out of site for a few damn minutes. Or think you're someone else just because you took off some bullshit mask! What did you do? Get shot in the mother-fucking head?"

She was understandably confused when I laughed uncontrollably at the last comment. Finally I pushed myself back up from brick wall that I had leaned on to catch my breath and looked at her. "Sorry, I had to try. You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Tell them what? That the purple drapes don't match the carpet? Like that's a fucking surprise? I still don't know shit!"

"Drapes?! Carpet?!" I replied, confused. She pointed at the purple wig that was peeking out of my bag and then pointed at my crotch. Then at my regular hair and my crotch. She had to do it two more times before I finally realized what she was saying and started laughing again. I also began to understand exactly why I drove Dave so insane. "Right, sorry. I don't think you're stupid. OK – yes, I'm Hit Girl. But you can call me Mindy. "

"I can fucking call you that? Or that's your name, bitch?" She shot back.

Ok, now I could empathize when Dave said I swore too much. It was kind of difficult to communicate when everything you heard involved 'shits' 'fucks' and 'bitches'. "Yes. My name is Mindy. If you stop swearing, I'll find you someplace to stay. Sound good?"

"My mom just died and I'm alone on the fucking street! Of course it sounds good, you stupid cu.." She began then stopped when she noticed my eyes had flashed from amused to pissed. "Umm, I mean, yes please?"

"Better." I said then looked her over. "Let's get you something decent to wear first."

"You mean pillow cases and fat guy's shirts aren't the height of fashion?" She asked sarcastically.

"No, definitely not." I replied. Better, I thought. Smart ass but without the swearing. I could work with this. So, we headed off for an early morning of food and shopping.

A couple of hours later, her stomach full of breakfast and finally in some decent clothes, she totally blew the tough girl routine by cuddling up next to me in the cab and falling asleep on my lap. We got to safe house and I took her inside. It was a bit of a struggle to carry both her and all of the shopping bags but I was still happy that Dave had already left for school. He'd been worried when I hadn't gotten home at the usual time but a quick exchange of text messages had reassured him that I was OK and just enjoying the morning. I hadn't told him about Bethany yet.

Yes. Bethany. The little ball of attitude and dirt had a cutesy princess type name. Ahh, who was I to judge? 'Mindy' didn't exactly come off as bad ass. I put her on the couch and covered her with a blanket. She instinctively pulled it around her until she was just about cocooned in the thing. Then she was dead to the world and I felt safe enough to crawl into my own bed. Within a minute or two, I joined her in slumber.

Apparently it was still a day for surprises. I was yanked out of sleep by a screeching noise coming from the living room and Dave yelling 'OW' repeatedly. I ran through the door and found Bethany wrapped around Dave's head and pummeling him with all the strength that she had in those six year old arms. I could see that Dave didn't want to hit back but was starting to get tired of being hit in the head and so I jumped into the fight and pulled her off of him.

Almost simultaneously, I got a "What the hell, Mindy!?" from Dave and an "I can take him!" from Bethany. I ordered the fighters to their separate corners and tried to figure out what had happened. It turned out that Dave had gotten home from school and didn't notice Bethany when he went to sit on the couch. He'd almost squashed her and triggered some sort of defensive response. I gathered that she'd been attacked while she was sleeping more than once and that the other times weren't so innocent. Dave just kept staring at me, his expression changing from anger to accusation, to confusion, to amusement and then back through the emotions again. He was kind of like that spinning wheel on 'Wheel of Fortune' and I quickly realized that I'd better stop him at the right spot or I'd end up 'bankrupt'. I tried waiting for amusement to come back around unfortunately he stopped all by himself on anger.

With his emotions barely controlled, Dave started to speak. "What in the fu…" He looked at Bethany, obviously not wanting to swear in front of her but unable to come up with another word. Bethany didn't help things when she helpfully added "Fuck?"

"Mindy, can I see you in the other room?" Dave managed to get out through teeth that must be cracking by now. Then, with more fear then I felt when sneaking into the warehouse to rescue Daddy, I followed him into the bedroom and shut the door.

OK. I was in for it. I'd never seen Dave this angry. Not at me anyway. I sat down on the bed and tried to look as innocent as possible. It didn't work.

"Why is there a kid in the safe house?" Dave asked in a tight voice.

"Girl." I said. "Not kid. Bethany. She's six." I replied, trying to keep things light.

"OK. Why is Bethany in the safe house?" Dave growled.

"She didn't have any place else to go?" I tried, already knowing that it wasn't going to work.

"And why was that?" Dave said, with this feeling that he was waiting for me to fall into the trap so that he could pounce on me.

"Well, there was this fight. And, I managed to pull of one of those 'one shot, one kills' like in that Sniper movie we watched last week…" I tried to explain before Dave interrupted me.

"You killed her Mom?" He said, the accusation almost dripping off the words. I stopped babbling and just sat there in shock. How dare he accuse me of that? How dare he even think it!? When I didn't manage a reply, he continued. "You did! You killed her mom and now you think you can just take her place! Mindy, how in the hell can you…"

This time I interrupted him with a slap. Well, kind of a slap. Most slaps wouldn't send 180 lbs of muscle flying across the room. He looked up at me from the floor. "No! I didn't kill her fucking mom! I killed the son of a bitch that killed her mom! And then the girl fell of the balcony they all were on and I caught her! And then she was crying and then she was swearing then she was eating pancakes and, FUCK IT DAVE! I couldn't just leave her there! I mean, sure, I'm Hit Girl and all tough and stuff, but I'm not a god damn monster! I'm a super hero Dave! Super heroes save people. Or, at least we try." I ran out of energy about the time that I stopped talking.

"So now what?" He asked. The anger had pretty much drained out of him.

I sat back down and put my face in my hands. "Now? I don't know. But I'll figure it out, OK? You've just got to give me some time."

"We." He said. I looked up startled. "We will figure it out. You and I made a deal. We're partners. Equal ones, not screwed up like Batman and Robin. Or Buffy and Xander." I smiled at his Buffy reference.

I dutifully repeated the line from Buffy. "No more butt monkey." Then finding strength in his support, I continued. "Fine. We're partners. We'll figure it out together. And Dave? Thanks. I love you."

"I love you too. Now I'm going to find an ice pack." Dave pulled himself to his feet and opened the door.

He was greeted with a scream of 'Nobody slaps Hit Girl!" and a gunshot that splintered the molding next to the door. She must have pulled one of my pistols from the bag I'd brought my costume home in. Fuck, I knew better than to be that careless with a gun. We both dove for cover and then spent the rest of the afternoon trying to convince Bethany that I'd slapped Dave instead of the other way around. Dave kept trying to explain it to her rationally while I kept suggesting that he just show her the red hand print on his cheek to prove it. He'd then remind me that if he showed his head, Bethany might shoot it off. I was having fun. I'd never conducted hostage negotiations before and I found it an interesting change of pace.


	3. Chapter 3

It Takes One to Raise One

_Sequel to the incredibly long titled No One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl. As before, Mindy is telling this story to someone, much as Dave does during the movies. Welcome and thank you for reading and reviewing. Title courtesy of Makokam._

That evening, Bethany and Dave became fast friends over a pizza with extra everything and Sponge Bob. Oh my god do I hate that fucking show. Why little kids and teenage guys love it I'll never understand. I just stared at it in disgust and quietly ate my chicken caesar salad. We'd extracted a promise from her that she wouldn't touch the guns again until I'd taught her how to use them. Dave wasn't really happy with that decision. He'd wanted her to promise to never touch them at all. I said that given our line of work, she might need them some day and that I saw no problem with a properly trained kid shooting a gun. He just started mumbling under his breath so I told him he was still being a pussy over almost getting shot. I'm a little surprised he didn't take a shot at me.

Dave and I kept the conversation light, but worked in as many questions about her situation as we could. It wasn't good. Her mom's name had been Anna. She didn't have any other family and had no idea who her dad was. Her mom had managed to stay off the streets most of the time by being a live-in girlfriend to a collection of deadbeats who took the 'beat' part of their name pretty literally. I suppose it isn't exactly the same as prostitution but in my mind, you're still sucking dick for a place to stay. Then again, when you've been beaten down that far, maybe dignity had to take second place to survival. Bethany and her mom had put up with a lot and taken quite a few beatings over the last few years. That pretty much explained her reaction when she thought Dave had slapped me. She'd listened to too many of those arguments and wasn't going to take them anymore.

Thank god she wasn't illiterate; her mom deserved a lot of credit for keeping Bethany in Head Start classes despite their irregular living conditions. She'd only just turned six and was on track to start kindergarten next year. A little late, but not as bad as it could be. She liked a lot of the typical things that a girl her age did. Dolls, kittens, that sort of shit. The fact that she been too poor to really experience them didn't matter. She wanted to be just like the other girls her age.

The problem was, she was on a fast track to disaster. If she went back out on the street, she wouldn't last a week before some pedophile or junkie would punch her ticket. If we turned her over to the state, she'd end up in the wonderful foster care system. And, since she wasn't a baby who'd get adopted right away, she'd probably spend years shuffling between foster parents and group homes. Maybe she'd find someone good; there were some people with good intentions involved. But her mouth and her inability to put up with any shit would likely get her kicked out of anyplace nice enough to be worth staying in. So she was, in her own words, "totally and completely fucked until I can't get fucked anymore." Thank goodness she didn't really know what 'fucked' meant. Or, at least, I hoped she didn't. Oh my god. What if I have to explain that to her someday? I'm not sure I could do it.

Also, I was really going to have to talk to her about not using 'fuck' more than once in the same phrase. Well, except for 'fuck the fucking fuckers!' I like that one.

I knew what to do in the short term at least. I wasn't sending her back out into hell. No fucking way. That only left keeping her. Not like a puppy, but providing her with a home. That had its own list of problems. The safe house only had the main workout room with a mini-firing range on one side, a bathroom, a bedroom, and kind of an open kitchen area near the door. We had enough room in the workout area to make her a small bedroom, but I'd have to hide all of the guns and shit from the contractors again. Balls! Well, it was going to be her room, so she'd help, I guess.I'd better call them tomorrow. And then there was school. I hadn't spent a lot of time there but I did understand how important learning was. Daddy had drilled that into me. But, I wasn't capable of home schooling her. And I couldn't exactly register her for real school if I wasn't a legal parent or guardian. I wonder if my fake ID guy can do ones for kids too? I'd have to find out. Son of a Bitch! ID, birth certificate, something to prove I was a relative, faked shot records… this was going to be really expensive.

It was then that I realized that I wasn't actually thinking short term. You don't build a room for someone who'd only going to stay for a few weeks. Ahh fuck it. The room would still be useful even if we did figure something else out and beyond that, it was just money. Kill a few more drug dealers and I'd make it back. Shit, I needed to get back on that anyway.

The next morning, Dave left for his last real day in school. He had to go in tomorrow as well, but only for like 2 hours. I mean seriously, what a fucking waste of tax dollars! They better not pull that shit with Bethany when she's older. I shoved that thought aside with a shudder. I wasn't part of the fucking PTA yet!

Bethany and I had a leisurely morning watching some anime that I can't pronounce but had lots of violence and not too many young girls in tiny skirts. What the fuck is up with that, anyway? Japanese animators are weird. Brilliant, but weird. We went out for lunch and afterwards, Bethany dragged me to the movies. Or, more specifically, a movie. Apparently, everyone else she knew had seen it and since I had a lot of fucking money, I could stop being a pussy and take her. Her words, not mine. I offered her anything else; she didn't budge. I pointed out that it was already on DVD and that we didn't have to sit in a crappy dollar theatre. She wanted to see it properly. So, I went in kicking and screaming to see Frozen.

Holy fuck. I mean seriously, holy fuck. We left the movie singing. By 'we' I do indeed mean both of us. It was amazing. Best of all – spoiler alert – everyone isn't saved by some asshole prince who just pops in at the end of the film! It was girl power without being a song by the douchebag Spice Girls. We picked up the soundtrack and blue ray at the local mall, then went home and watched it again. Dave came home to me finally tapping into my karaoke bug singing 'Let It Go' at the top of my lungs along with the sing along edition of the film. This basically broke him for about an hour and forced me to ponder the wisdom of letting him laugh at me so often. But I was having fun so I got over it. Plus, later that night, he apologized by eating me out until I almost screamed. I say almost because, if I had screamed, we'd probably have had another gunshot from a barely awake Bethany and I really didn't want that to wreck my orgasm. So I bit my knuckle until it almost bled. But it was worth it. God I love that man's tongue.

Things were just getting interesting when I heard a scream from the main room. I bolted out of bed stark naked, grabbed my favorite Sig Sauer 9mm and opened the door just a crack. There was no assailant. No fight. There was just Bethany wailing and crying into the cushions of the couch and moaning about how she wanted her mommy. I told Dave what was happening and he tossed me my robe while he pulled on some clothes. I walked out and sat on the floor next to her, feeling completely helpless. Now what? I never even knew my mom. Sure, I was proud to have avenged her, but I'd never cried about her. Not like this. Dave was finally decent and since I was frozen just like Anna in the film, he picked up Bethany and let her sob out her heart into his shoulder. Anna… Shit. What was the chance that her mom's name would have been used in Frozen? I guess it finally worked its way through her psyche and come out in her dreams. Her mom was dead. And she really hadn't spent a lot of time mourning her. Dave was amazing. He got her to calm down and then talked to her about how he had lost his mom. And how it was OK to miss her but that life would still go on.

I didn't know how to help and finally left them to crawl into bed. After a few minutes of staring into the darkness behind my eyelids, I just broke down. Tears silently coursed down my cheeks as I thought about the mother that had given me life but I'd never gotten to meet. I kept myself as silent as the grave. Bethany finally went back to sleep and when Dave climbed back into our bed, I clung onto him and mixed my tears with Bethany's on his still damp shoulder. It was time to mourn my mother too.


	4. Chapter 4

It Takes One to Raise One

_Sequel to the incredibly long titled No One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl. Which I've almost finished a re-write of. Not that you'd have to go back to read it again; I haven't changed anything significant. Just cleaned it up. As before, Mindy is telling this story to someone, much as Dave does during the movies. I didn't want to write this chapter. But the story needs what it needs. I think you'll like it and as soon as I clear things up, we'll get back to the fun and even some action. Welcome and thank you for reading and reviewing. Title courtesy of Makokam._

I woke up the next morning feeling vaguely hung over. Kind of like I did when I'd drank half a bottle of Daddy's scotch. Bethany seemed to be in a similar state. We managed a breakfast of toast and milk. The idea of orange juice was frankly repulsive. Late last night I'd realized there was something Bethany and I needed to do today. Something I didn't even want to think about. And something that would probably fuck up what little cool Bethany had managed to achieve. We had to go, identify her mother's body, and make arrangement to take care of her.

I suppose we didn't HAVE to, but I knew that if we didn't, someday it would come back and haunt the poor girl. Bethany need to process this loss somehow or she'd go insane. So, I grabbed my fake ID and a big stack of bills. I figured we would need them.

I took Bethany to the coroner's office on my bike. I kind of hoped the thrill of the ride would help her to deal with the devastation this day would bring. It was one thing to see your mother die. To be rescued by a hero who made sure you had food to eat and clothes to wear. It was an entirely different thing to go back to say goodbye.

I'd already talked with Bethany about using a different last name and also saying that I was her mom if asked. I hoped this would be enough to get us out of the police building in one piece. I parked my motorcycle and walked into the office. We spoke with the police official in charge and gave a vague enough description of what we knew that they wouldn't somehow question us in how she died but wouldn't make us look at the wrong body. He accepted the story and told me that a person from the coroner's office would be with me in a minute. It didn't take very before we were ushered into a room that had very little in it except for a metal cart with a sheet draped over it. The mousy little coroner's assistant who had brought us in offered to keep Bethany in the hallway while I went through this. I said no, both because I didn't want to be separated from her and because I wasn't really the one who could identify her. So, then he brought out a beat up wooden box and helped Bethany to stand on it so that she could see. I choked up a little at the thought that not only did they have something for a child to stand on handy, but that it was almost worn out. Apparently Bethany's identification wasn't a rarity.

After a brief warning, the assistant turned back the sheet just enough to show the face. Bethany grabbed onto my arm and squeezed. I know she wanted to break down, but she stuck to the story. "Yes. That's Anna. My… friend's mom." Bethany said in a clear, sad voice.

The man nodded and put back the sheet. Then we went back to the office and I filled out the paperwork to get Bethany's mom released to a funeral home. While Anna had been murdered, the method (stabbing) was certainly clear and they'd already collected any other evidence that they needed. It wasn't too much trouble to get things set.

I'd offered to have her mom buried in a nice cemetery on the edge of the city but Bethany had been adamant that her mom be cremated. Not exactly the response I'd expected from a child of six, but what the fuck did I know about how she was supposed to be reacting? It took a few days and then they called us to come pick up the ashes.

This time, Dave came with us and we took the car. No cheap tricks to try to distract her from grief this time. Dave went inside and came back with the remains. Then we drove out of the city until we found a nice place on top of a hill. We got out and all walked together for while until Bethany decided we had found the right place. I checked the wind direction and then we got ready to scatter her mother's ashes.

I suppose it might sound callous to mention checking the wind, but trust me. If you ever scatter ashes you do not want to do it into the wind. It's disrespectful and just plain gross.

We'd all agreed to say a little something and Dave had agreed to go first. "Hi Anna." He said, trying to keep his voice clear. "I know you loved your little girl. You took such wonderful care of her and made her into an amazing person. My mom took care of me like that and I still remember what it felt like. I'll make sure that Bethany always feels that love and caring. I promise." He looked at me.

"Anna. I'm sorry you weren't one of the ones that I could save. I killed the bastard who did this to you but I don't know if that matters wherever you are now. And while I don't remember my mom at all, I do remember how much my Daddy and Marcus loved me." I glanced at Dave. "And I know how much Dave loves me. So, even with my messed up life, I also know what it is to be loved and cared about. I don't know if I'm ready for this, but I've done a lot of things I wasn't ready for. I…. We… Dave and me. We'll take care of Bethany for you. We'll be OK." Tears fell unheeded down Dave's face and he reached out to wrap his arm around me. Since I was already holding Bethany, this brought the three of us together. Bethany so far was tear free. We stood together for a long moment, and then she moved forward so that she could stand on her own.

"Mommy… Mommy, you know how much I love you. I miss you but I'm glad you're in a place where the bad men can't hit you anymore. Mommy, this is Hit Girl and Kick Ass. Mindy and Dave. They try to make the world a better place. And they love each other, like you loved me and Daddy should have. They'll teach me to be strong so that no one can ever hurt me. They'll take care of me now. I used to watch you worry and wish that there was something that I could do. I used to watch you cry when you thought I was asleep. You looked like the whole world was trying to squish you. Hit Girl offered a nice place to bury you, but I knew that wasn't what you would have wanted. You hated being trapped or underground. You wouldn't even take the subway. You always wanted to be outside and feel the wind. So, this is what I came up with. If it's OK, I'll visit you here sometimes. But now I'm going to try to be happy. Because that's what you always told me to do. And Mommy? It's OK for you to be happy too. "

She looked up at Dave and me. Grief had finally overwhelmed her. I pulled her back to stand with us as Dave opened the container and began to scatter the ashes so that they flew away on the wind. Bethany was trying to speak but was unable to get the words past the sobs. So I spoke for her.

"Goodbye Bethany's mommy. Be happy. Fly free."


	5. Chapter 5

It Takes One to Raise One

_Sequel to the incredibly long titled No One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl. Welcome and thank you for reading and reviewing. Title courtesy of Makokam._

Sometimes my life feels like God wants to wrap up one part of my life before he'll move on to working on another. That was how things were with Bethany. She seemed to adjust as well as any six year old really can adjust to her mother passing away so we just focused on the future. We trained for a few days and I started helping her to build up some muscle mass. She'd need it if she was ever going to manage to fight someone without using a weapon. Hell, even with one, she needed the strength and stability to control it. Since hand to hand fighting probably wasn't in her immediate future, I'd also started training her with the smallest .22 caliber pistol that I could find. Her wrists weren't strong enough to handle it for more than a few shots at a time but her aim was decent.

Dave's graduation was on Saturday. Like most high schools, his had let the seniors out about a week early so that they had time to take care of things before the big day. And also because most of the seniors would have skipped those last few days anyway once they were sure they were going to graduate. The excitement around graduation was kind of bittersweet for both of us. Dave knew most of his peers were moving onto futures that didn't involve getting the shit beaten out of you on a regular basis and I was fixated on the fact that I'd never get a graduation day. Sure, I was well on my way to finishing my GED. But that was mostly to prove to myself that I could do it, I mean, it wasn't like I'd need to have it to put on a resume. And even if Dave did make a big deal of it and throw me a party when I finally finished (like the one I was throwing for him), it still wouldn't be the same as walking up to get a diploma. Dave noticed how upset the idea was making me and tried to make excuses for why he couldn't go to the ceremony. I told him "Tough shit, at least I can experience it vicariously through you." And I meant it. Also, I was proud that I used 'vicariously' correctly in a sentence. It proved the GED workbooks weren't a total waste of time.

On Friday night, I had some errands to run to get ready for our celebration on Saturday. And Bethany was going nuts over the idea that she was ready for a patrol. I'd tried to explain that patrolling was 99% boredom matched up with 1% of excitement, but she wasn't buying it. So, I agreed that Dave would take her out. Hopefully four or five hours of wandering through cold empty alleys would persuade her that the conditioning work I was trying to get her to do was worth the effort. I wasn't worried about them because Dave wasn't going to go anywhere that was too dangerous. It was a good compromise.

I was surprised to find Dave sitting on the couch when I got back. He and Bethany had left before me and they hadn't planned to be back until much later. But there he was. Sitting on the couch and fuming. I hadn't been sure exactly how to describe 'fuming' on one of my GED tests but trust me, if I had been able to just attach a picture of Dave right now, I'd have gotten a perfect score. "Where's Bethany?" I asked.

"In our room. I couldn't send her to her own room because it isn't done yet. So I sent her to our room. She's not to come out until she's thought about what she's done."

I put the bags with party supplies down on the counter and looked at him. "Seriously Dave? Thought about what she did? What in the fuck happened? You look like shit."

"She happened." Dave said. "She's just a little fucking copy of you, but without your good qualities." Man, he was pissed.

I decided to take the comment as a compliment instead of an insult and sat down next to him. "OK." I said. "What happened?"

"Well, we were patrolling like you and I agreed. At first, it was just little stuff. 'Quit walking so slow, you stupid little bitch' and 'Stop pulling at your mask, asshole. I don't care if it itches.' That kind of shit."

"You said those things to her? She's just a little girl!"

"Me? No! " He grumbled. "She said those things to me! Constantly. At least you generally give up after the first ten minutes or so."

I relaxed and smothered a giggle. "OK, then what happened?"

Dave continued. "Well, our arguing finally generated an unfriendly audience. Three thugs came around a corner and pulled knives on us. They said my ass was grass because of what I'd done to D'Amico and then told me that the, quote, 'tiny little cunt rag better get herself lost so that the big boys could play.' As you can imaging, that really upset Bethany. I had to hold her back while she screamed about how she was going to kill the cocksuckers for insulting her. I kept saying 'No' and tried to stand between her and the thugs. She kept saying 'Yes.' and started waving that little pistol that you gave her around. Honestly, the assholes with the knives don't know what to do and it might have been funny if it had stopped there. But they didn't leave and so I finally gave up and told her that she can fire a warning shot at them. Maybe that would make her happy and we could go home. She smiled with glee and, quick as a wink, shot the biggest one in the head!" Dave took a breath. "That's not a damn warning shot!" he shouted at the bedroom door.

A muffled voice from the bedroom shouted back. "It was so a warning shot, asshole!"

Dave turned toward the door. "No, it wasn't! Warning shots are supposed to miss."

Bethany opened the door and stared at him defiantly. "Why the fuck would I miss? That would have just warned them that I couldn't shoot for shit! I gave them a real warning shot and it made them run!" Bethany grinned at him in triumph.

I decided to join the conversation. "I'm a little confused. He was dead; he couldn't run."

Bethany walked down to the couch. "Well, **HE** wasn't the one I was warning. He deserved to die for calling me a cunt rag. I was warning the other two fuckers about what would happen to them if they kept pissing me off. It worked!"

Oh my god, Dave was right. Bethany did think like me. I grinned. And it was fucking glorious!

Dave saw my grin. "You'd have done the same damn thing!" he accused.

"Probably." I admitted. "Except that I'd have shot all three and then told you to shove your 'warning shot' up your ass."

Bethany burst into giggles and I joined her pretty quickly. Dave just stared at us helplessly. "I can't believe I agreed to live with you two lunatics." With that, he pushed off from the couch walked over to the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Bethany and I both yelled at the door. "Don't come back out until you've thought about what you've done!"


	6. Chapter 6

It Takes One to Raise One

_Sequel to the incredibly long titled No One Takes Down Hit Girl But Hit Girl. Welcome and thank you for reading and reviewing. Title courtesy of Makokam. Oh my god this chapter's been tough. Can't decide what I want to do with it. _

Did you notice that the thugs from Dave and Bethany's encounter mentioned D'Amico? Really? Well, fuck it. I didn't.

Dave recovered from his breakdown and Bethany promised not to shoot anyone without express permission. That promise took a lot of peace making on my part, but it was Dave's graduation day and I wasn't going to let anything spoil it. He was meeting Marty and Todd, whom he hadn't seen outside of school even once since he moved in with me and then party with them after. He'd tried to get out of it, claiming he didn't want to celebrate without me. I told him that he'd earned it and that I wouldn't get upset as long as he remembered what would happen to him if he so much as had naughty thoughts about another girl. It involved his testicles, fishing line and razor blades and was pretty creative, if I do say so myself. He got the message immediately and agreed to behave himself. I think that the color drawing that I'd stuck on the fridge helped.

I was going to the ceremony also. But I wasn't crazy enough to be in the audience, even with a good disguise. I'd been around the kids in school long enough that one of them was bound to ID me. And then there'd be screaming and it would fuck up the whole thing. So, I'd watch from the rafters and then hurry off to pick up Bethany. The babysitter said she would charge quadruple overtime if I didn't get there before 10.

Yes, babysitter. There was no way I was leaving Bethany home alone. There was also no way I was bringing her up to the rafters with me. So, that left us with needing a babysitter. The term had pissed Bethany off something fierce when we told her but hey, that's what they're called. Dave and I had wracked our brains about who we could ask. The people that knew about us and wouldn't freak out over me being in town or where the hell Bethany had come from were few. Marty would be at graduation, so he was out of course. Same for Katie, even if I was willing to trust the bitch, which I wasn't. We'd lost track of a lot of the folks from Justice Forever. The 'Finding Tommy' couple would probably have done it, but I think Bethany would have been more than they could handle. Plus, and I know this is harsh, but they'd already lost one kid. How could they guarantee they wouldn't lose another? Finally, Dave came up with the idea of calling Miranda. You know, 'Night Bitch'.

"You want to call who?" I asked. "Your previous fuck bunny? Holy shit, Dave! Wait, you just want to plug up her leak again, don't you?"

"Of course not! It's not like that." He said defensively. "Plus, your description of what would happen to me if I did would be enough to keep any guy faithful, even if he didn't love you as much as I love you." It was clear from my look that I wasn't buying the 'I love you' argument so he continued. "Also, I see the picture you drew to illustrate it every time I get a glass of milk from the fridge. Look, we don't have a lot of options and she's good with kids."

"How do you know…"

He interrupted. "She teaches ballet. Which means dealing with kids, right? " I nodded to indicate that he actually had a point. "Plus, I talked with her some while you were out of town. Trust me. That beating took her hard. Even though Chris 'limp dick' D'Amico couldn't actually rape her, he still did some nasty shit. Whatever spark there was between us was gone when I visited her in the hospital and even if there had still been something, I wouldn't be interested now." He grinned at me impishly. "I mean, I'm the only guy in the world who gets to fuck Hit Girl."

OK. I smiled like a moron at that one. I guess flattery did have its place. "OK, fine. Call her."

And, so, it had been arranged with very little fuss. Miranda apparently needed the money and was happy to help out in a way that didn't expose her to any more danger. Needed it pretty bad actually; I think she realized how desperate we were and she drove a very hard bargain. Bethany was happy because her 'babysitter' used to be a hero and had promised to teach her some ballet as well, for an extra fee. A big extra fee. Ah, fuck it. I guess she's kind of family. And if I just offered her money without some way for her to earn it, she'd be insulted. So, it was win-win. Plus, I'd listened in on Dave's phone conversation with her and made sure he wasn't planning some illicit meeting with her. I mean, I trusted him but that didn't mean I'd gone stupid.

Dave had already left for the ceremony and I'd taken his car to drop off Bethany at Miranda's. We'd decided the Safe House was better kept a secret, even from an old Justice Forever member. I got Bethany settled and then found a place not too far away from the auditorium to park. I snuck behind the building and changed into my costume. I know it wasn't really necessary, but it helped me to remember that I was part of something bigger than a high school graduation. Or, at least I kept telling myself that. However, I'd left the hardware behind because tonight would be peaceful. I climbed to the roof and jimmied open a skylight. About twenty minutes and a lot of wriggling had me safely ensconced high above the stage. Everyone filed in and the ceremony started. There were the typical boring speeches, including the valedictorian breaking down and crying about how much she loved everyone and would miss them. Surprisingly, she really had loved just about everyone; she was widely known as the school slut and I was frankly impressed that she'd studied enough to be valedictorian too. I mean seriously, where did she find the time?

Finally, they started calling names. The names kind of echoed up to me. 'Abrams, James…. Adams, Bradley… Afney, Bella…' I kind of spaced out thinking about how nice it would have been to hear Macready, Mindy shortly after Lizewski, Dave. I mean, I know we weren't in the same year, but it's my daydream, god damnit. I also considered whether I could have had them announce 'Girl, Hit' but decided that would be a bit too much even for me.

The voice droned on. 'Currie, Caroline… Davidson, Dav…. The voice was cut off by a gunshot that startled me so much I almost fell off the beam.

I looked down and the guy who had been reading out the names was on the ground, clutching at his chest and kind of gurgling. A thug with a .357 stood over him. The crowd was diving for cover, which was kind of funny because all they had were folding chairs and each other to hide behind. The fat people got really popular.

"Stay where you are!" The shooter shouted at the audience. The bastard then walked calmly up to the microphone and spoke in a respectful voice. "D'Amico, Chris." The name bounced around me in the rafters while I followed his gaze to see a huge titted girl in a slutty nurse costume pushing a wheelchair up toward the stage. Six thugs flanked it, dressed up to look like those red guys guarding the Emperor in the end of Return of the Jedi. And, there in all his apparent glory, sat Chris. He was wearing some black robe/cowl thing that totally didn't work for someone who was effectively sitting down. This was a new level of mental for him. The insanity apparent in his expression pretty much radiated off of him. They reached the stage and I heard his voice for the first time.

"Why the fuck isn't there a ramp? Isn't everything supposed to be handicap accessible? I mean, what is wrong with you people!" He took a breath. "Oh, fuck it." Chris looked at his 'guards'. "Well? What are you waiting for? Carry me up the fucking stairs!"

Then they manhandled his wheelchair up the stairs in a routine that could have come out of a Mel Brooks movie. When he was finally settled, they handed him the microphone from the podium. I'd sat there in shock ever since I'd seen Chris. I mean, the mother fucker… I mean the Mother Fucker was still alive? I mean, what the fuck? What the mother fuck… My brain wasn't working

I wasted the next couple of minutes on a silent swearing fit over the fact that yet again, I hadn't brought a gun when I needed one. From now on, I was even taking a gun with me into the shower. Before I could recover, they'd gotten Chris positioned in front of the podium and given him the microphone. I finally got over my fit and started crawling along the beams to get closer to the stage. I hadn't brought any weapons but the .357 that the thug was waving around would be a nice addition to my collection. Especially after I used it to blow Chris's head off. I could put it on a plaque.

The gun, not his head. I mean, I wanted him dead, but…. Gross!

"Nice try, Bitches! No one ignores The Motherfucker! This is my graduation day! I am no longer a super villain! I am a MASTER VILLIAN!" Seriously, you could almost hear the capital letters in his voice. Chris looked over the crowd with glee and a total lack of sanity. I glanced down at the crowed again and saw Marty and Todd holding Dave down. I couldn't fault them; If Dave charged in now he'd just end up dead.

I saw at least five people in the crowd hiding and talking frantically into their cell phones. My heart sank. While some of them were probably calling loved ones and saying goodbye, at least one of them would be calling 911. Not what I wanted but, well, we don't always get what we want. I figured I had at most 10 minutes to get Dave and I out of here before the place would be surrounded by a SWAT team. I mean, Dave wasn't in costume but they pretty much knew who he was at this point so he'd end up in jail for sure. I pulled a wireless headset out of my pocket and, after tuning it to police frequencies, put it in my ear. Yep. Sure as shit. The dispatchers were yelling about the SWAT team being 4 minutes out. I had to give them credit; it was a pretty impressive response time. I went back to mouthing swear words like there was no tomorrow. The problem of course was that I wouldn't have time to kill Chris and escape safely. FUCK! Oh well. I had to accept it and get to work. Right before I went down the ladder to the stage, I pulled my mask straighter and checked my wig. If the world was going to see Hit Girl again, I was not going to look like shit.

"None of you are worthy to be in the same room with me!" Chris screamed. "But you have been granted the chance to witness my GLORY! And now, I leave you to tell the world!" With that, he dropped the mic like some fucking rapper. Plus, who the fuck did he think he was, Jesus? The guards got him back down the stairs and moving down the aisle about the same time that I reached the floor.

He glanced over and saw a few of the audience members recording him with their camera phones. His voice shifted back to old wimp Chris. "Hey guys, thanks a lot! That's totally what I was talking about. I really appreciate you recording this. Could you please e-mail those to all four of the news stations? Oh, and, like, could you edit out the part with the stairs? I can trust you to do that, right?" After a long moment, they nodded at him dumbly.

I was quietly working my way around the crowd when I heard a scream. I glanced toward the sound and saw that Brooke had managed to spot me. How many ways was that girl going to fuck up my life? That scream did a perfect job of getting people's attention, but when she followed it by shouting "It's Hit Girl!" the room went nuts.

I guess my reputation for lethality preceded me. But, even if I did kill civilians, I didn't have a gun so I couldn't have killed more than twenty, maybe thirty at the most. But every single person in that room decided to run. They were more afraid of me than they were the thugs with guns. The world is apparently filled with pussies. I think I heard Chris screaming about wanting to kill me himself over the din, but his goons had obviously read the writing on the wall. They just picked him up bodily and booked it out the doors. In my heart, I knew there was no way that I could catch him.

I saw Dave trying to fight his way toward me through the crowd, but I gestured that he should leave with the rest of them and ran back to climb back up into the rafters. God my arms were getting tired. Not even squirrels have to climb up and down this much. I figured I still had time though. A couple of thousand people running screaming out of the building should be enough of a distraction for me to get away. I'd lost my headset in all of the confusion but had to still be ahead of the SWAT teams. I leaped from beam to beam until I got to the roof access and pulled myself through. I ran across the roof and swung onto the fire escape. Last ladder for tonight, I thought. Now to pick up Bethany and figure out a plan to put Chris down for good.

(Section with SWAT guy deleted because it just didn't do what I want)


End file.
